Calling
by puravidaloco
Summary: Just a little stand-alone oneshot. Featuring a sick Spock, a worried Jim, and snarling McCoy and just a bit of friendship. Disclaimer: I own nothing. Enjoy.


Just a little stand-alone oneshot. Inspired by the one word prompt, 'Calling'. Enjoy!

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He was calling for his Captain.

In the mist swirling around him, indistinct shapes seemed to lurk, slipping just out of his blurred vision as he stumbled forward.

"Captain!" He shouted, squinting forward, trying to see the path ahead of him. Everything was unclear, blurred, distorted. He did not know where he was, and he could perceive no logical destination.

He took a deep breath in through his nostrils. The air here, wherever _here_ might be, was heavy, almost difficult to intake. He listened carefully, reaching out with his sensory perception, but he could hear nothing but his own heavy breathing and sound of his shuffling, stumbling step. His eyesight was met with nothing but the shadows lurking in the pearly swirling mists, shadows that looked so real, but that he was unable to touch.

"Captain!" He called again, pausing his steps for a moment to reorient himself. He felt…strange. A heavy, aching sensation was clutching at his chest and racing down his spine, and he felt oddly chilled. He clenched his fists at his sides, and looked around, again trying to use his senses to get some sort of bearing.

Suddenly, he heard something. It was faint, just barely perceptible above the sound of his own labored breathing, but it was there. A voice, indistinct, but so very familiar. And the voice was _calling _him.

He moved towards, throwing himself into action without logical thought. "Captain! Jim!" he shouted, now running through the mists. The sound of his Captain's voice was growing louder, and was now joined by another voice, lower and more gruff, but very distinct to Spock.

"Jim! Leanord!" He shouted.

The voices were louder than ever, a rushing sound in his ears, and then he suddenly had the strange sensation of being wrenched upward and off his feet.

His next conscious thought told him he was laying flat on his back. He opened his eyes with a soft gasp, shock and disorientation filling him with the desire to flee.

There was a soft voice in his ear, and a gentle hand on his brow and suddenly worried electric blue eyes met his own confused gaze. "Captain…" he croaked.

"Shhhh…easy Spock. You're ok now." Jim said softly, tearing his gaze away to look at something Spock could not see. "Bones!" the captain called.

"Captain. I…"

"I'm here Spock. It's alright. You've had a fever, a pretty bad one. Bones was really worried, but you're going to be alright." The slight shake in the Captain's voice told him that the Doctor had been more than worried, but the relief in the young man's eyes spoke volumes.

There was the sound of footsteps, then McCoy was there, hazel eyes ablaze, but exhausted at the same time. "How you feeling?" He grumbled, the tiredness underlying his gravelly tone.

"Doctor. I have been better." Spock managed, slowly.

"Well it looks like your gonna be alright." McCoy said, and Spock felt the slight pinch of a hypospray at his neck. "Which means Captain Concerned will be _leaving_ now to get a full night's rest!"

Spock turned his head slowly to gaze at his Captain, and found the worried blue eyes gazing intently down at him. There was an uncertainty there.

"I am well, Captain. I will rest, and so should you." Spock said, slowly again.

Jim looked rebellious, but when McCoy literally snarled, he seemed to sag a little. "Okay, okay. I'm leaving, but not for long."

McCoy moved to the other side of the bed and shoved Jim towards the door. "Food. Shower. Sleep. In that order."

After Jim had left, McCoy came back and carefully helped Spock sit up and take some water. Spock felt weak and did not knowing why he was so weak or how he had gotten to that state, but he accepted the ministrations of the doctor all the same. It was not logical to refuse the assistance when he obviously required it, and worried, tired look of the human was most disconcerting.

"You were really sick there for a while."

The gruff voice startled Spock after the long silence. Spock turned his head to look at the doctor, prompting him to continue with the raise of an eyebrow.

"You kept calling for us. Jim, and me."

Spock frowned, remembering the indistinct mists, the voices and the uncertainty. "I…remember."

"He hasn't left your side." McCoy said, a smile twisting weakly at the corners of his mouth.

There was a long moment of silence, as Spock focused on his own steady breathing and McCoy watched the monitor above the biobed with a frown on his face. Suddenly McCoy fixed Spock with a penetrating gaze.

"You know we will always come when you call, Spock" He said, seriously.

Spock gazed back at the doctor, surprised, but not displeased at the open admission of such emotions. He had no problem echoing the Doctor's sentiments.

"As will I, Doctor."

After all, the truth was only logical.


End file.
